Dear Steve and Shirley,
My husband and I had two kids before we graduated from high school. We did what everyone said we couldn’t do — we got married, raised our children, and we’re still in love. Now that our kids are grown, we are reclaiming our youth, and they’re sick of us because we keep running into them at nightclubs, bars, and even a strip club once. We both just turned 50, and since we work from home, we have a ball together. Weed is legal in our state, so we just started smoking and doing edibles because we have stressful jobs. I love drinking wine, but my husband doesn’t care for alcohol.
Last Saturday, I bought a box of wine and had about four glasses. My husband had half a glass. Then, his friend came over with a bag of gummy edibles, and while my husband ate a few, I had a lot more. I started feeling the effects, so I went to lie down. It got dark, the bed was feeling great, and the house was quiet.
I figured my husband had left to hang out with his friend. Around 9 p.m., I heard a noise in the other bedroom and jumped up. The house was pitch black, and the room was spinning from the wine and the edibles. I grabbed three wooden hangers from the closet and saw a figure in our guest room, so I started swinging. I hit, and hit, and hit again, then ran back to my room and locked the door.
My husband started yelling for me to call 911 because he had just been attacked. I opened the door slowly and realized I had just attacked him! He wasn’t laughing, and he wanted to press charges. I swore I didn’t know it was him, and I was terrified. Now, he’s furious with me, and I’ve sworn off edibles forever.
Why can’t he understand why I attacked him?